Touchdown: Tokyo!

     We made it, kids. 17 hours of travel later, I write this from my desk in my room at the Park Hotel in Tokyo, Japan, and you should be really jealous because it's incredibly nice. They gave us free slippers and pajamas. Just saying. The camera battery is recharging right now, so pictures will be waiting for you when you wake. I'm like Santa, but instead of leaving presents, I taunt you with pictures of my vacation. Sucka.

    Everything went off without a hitch. Flight got off close to on-time, no screaming babies, sufficient entertainment, decent chow. Got through customs without incident, except for when some jag-off in an Ed Hardy hat decided she needed pictures of the "Under No Circumstances Take Pictures" sign and the guy doing Carisa's immigration info went from Zero-to-Ballistic on Ed Hardy girl in .5 seconds. Lots of screaming and hand-waving, all while holding Carisa's passport. That was interesting, in the terrifying "Now I'll Get To See What the Inside of a Foreign Prison Looks Like" sort of way.  

    I am speaking to you from a different pocket of time. It's 7:31 PM on July 2nd here in Tokyo, so I'm assuming it's a drastically different hour wherever you folks are.  If you think I'm doing the math on that when I'm this jet-lagged, you're off your fucking rocker. You're lucky this post isn't exclusively consonants and executive-level swear words.

     The view from our room is out-freaking-standing. Right now Tokyo is looking like Manhattan's Asian cousin, and that is a great sign. We're off to get acclimated with the neighborhood and the bar in the unbelievably swank lobby of our 9-star hotel.

      Greetings again. 

      From Tokyo.

          - KMS & Cabbie